A different kind of hero
by Glitterberryy
Summary: Danny has to overcome a fear to help pull him and Steve through a sticky situation. All round whumpage, just because.


**Hey guys, **

**Just a quickie I tapped out whilst waiting for my brother to finish up his eye exam! Sorry it's not perfect, but I hope you enjoy it. **

**GB xox**

* * *

**Prompt: Write about someone who has to overcome some serious, deeply rooted hangups to save someone's life. I mean like, really, really serious hangups.**

* * *

"I prefer beaches." Danny huffs, not aiming it directly at Steve, but he hears it anyway.

"Stop complaining and just look." Steve replies, stopping in his tracks, directs at the view from the top of the mountain the two men stand on. Danny hates to admit it, but Steve is right; the view is absolutely breathtaking – even the ocean looks beautiful from here.

"I just wish it wasn't so far..._up_." He says instead of praising. "My knee is killing me." He pulls his cell from his pocket, snaps a picture of the island to show Grace later, because otherwise, she'll never believe that he came.

"We can rest here for a bit." Steve nods, pulls the pack from his back and drops it to the floor. "Are you hungry?"

"Are you kidding me? I'm starved." Danny nods, pulling his own bag from his shoulders, uses it as a seat to perch upon. Steve ignores the look of indignation on his partners face when he hands him a ration pack. "What is this?" Danny asks, shaking the packet in Steve's general direction.

"Dinner." Steve answers innocently.

"This," Danny shakes the packet harder, "_this_, is not food, Steven. I should have known you'd pull something like this. Next time we take a trip up a mountain, far, far away from civilisation, I'm in charge of the lunch boxes."

"Stop whining, they have all the nutrients we need to get us through." Steve shakes his head, casts his eyes to the horizon, can barely see where water meets sky. "I love being up here." He sighs, content.

"I'd be happier with a good Jersey slice in my hand, a cold beer in the other, and watching a good game." Danny mutters under his breath, tosses the unopened ration packet back to Steve, casts his eyes out also, hopes to see what Steve is seeing, has a feeling he never will. "How much further?"

"Half an hour, maybe 45 minutes? It depends if you keep slowing us down." Before Danny can protest; "Want some advil? Maybe we should have cleared it with your doctor first?"

"I'm fine." Danny shakes his head, because he's no SEAL, but that doesn't mean he can't handle a little pain. "Maybe later."

"If you're not going to eat, we should carry on. We'll be there before Dusk if we don't stop again."

"Yeah, yeah." Danny mumbles, stands back up, stretches out his knee a couple of times before throwing his pack over his shoulder. "Let's just get on with it."

"You should try and enjoy the journey a bit more, Danno. Maybe then you'll smile for once." Steve laughs, leading the way up the trail.

"But that's my point, Steve, I'm not enjoying it. I just don't get my kicks out of..."

Danny's cut off as Steve disappears, the ground swallowing him whole, and then, before he can turn back or process what he's seeing, the ground beneath his feet is crumbling away and he's falling, too.

* * *

_I can't breathe._

Danny squeezes his eye closed, tries to imagine he's anywhere but here.

"Danny? Can you hear me?" Steve's voice echoes in his ears.

_I can't breathe. I'm going to die._

"Danny? Speak to me, buddy!"

"Can't breathe." Danny rasps, hands scratching at his restricting chest. "G'na die." Bile claws at his throat, sweat beads on his dirty face, his body trembles.

"You're okay, Danno." Steve assures. "Open your eyes." He coaxes, and Danny tries to take in a deep lungful of heavy air. Sharp pain radiates from his side, through his chest and around to his back.

_This is the end. Oh God. Grace..._

"Look at me, Danny."

_Can't breathe. It hurts. _

"Danno!"

_Steve?_

"C'mon buddy. I need you to open your eyes."

"'teve?" Waits for confirmation, grabs hold of his throat as it threatens to restrict.

"Yep, it's me. You're okay. Look at me."

It takes a moment for Danny to process that information, another moment before he tries to open his sealed lids, and yet another before his eyes adjust to the foggy darkness. Then he's seeing dust – lots of dust – clay and mud, burying them in a cave of rubble. Takes a few seconds to realise he's laying on his back, staring up at what should be a sky stained orange as the sun sets. Remembers the collapse.

"Oh God." He groans, the air thick in his dry throat.

"Hey, Danno." Steve calls, his voice quiet against moaning debris. Danny moves his head slowly, looks over at his partner. Steve's propped against a large lump of rock less then a meter away, and he looks pale. There's a pool of blood below his right leg and sweat runs down his dusty face. "I need you to take some deep breaths for me. You're having a panic attack." Danny tries again, fights through the fog of panic threatening to consume him, shoves some air deep into his lungs, causes a coughing fit and jolts of agony to shoot through his torso. Looks back at Steve, uses him as his anchor, pulls himself back to rationality. Steve doesn't speak again until Danny's calmed enough to curse and breathing is somewhat near normal. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"I, uh, I don't know." Danny replies hoarsely, tries to push the fear and panic back as he starts a mental pat down of his body. He feels slight relief when nothing seems to hurt too bad, except the ribs that he knows are broken and his left ankle is throbbing painfully. "Think I broke some ribs." He answers. "Maybe my ankle too."

"Can you move?"

"Uh, can try." Danny offers, pushes lumps of rock and mud off of his torso, before wrapping his right arm around his body in an attempt to hold himself together. He rolls, gently, onto his left side, uses his other arm to steady himself and push into a sitting position. He pants, the movement taking more out of him that it should have.

"That's good, buddy." Steve sighs, and Danny tries to ignore the distance in his tone. He moves to put weight on his foot, and then lets out a cry as the throb turns to fire.

"Can't..." Danny pants, decides he's not going to try again.

"S'ok, Danno." Steve nods, closes his eyes and rests his head back. "We'll think of something else."

"How bad?" Danny asks of Steve's injuries, tries to distract himself from the cave.

"Leg's broken, concussion, maybe a fractured collarbone. That's about all." Steve's smile is lopsided. "Had worse." Danny doesn't reply, because he's not entirely sure what to say. He pulls his cell from his pants pocket, isn't surprised to see it smashed up and tosses it on the floor.

"We need to get out of here." He says, fear threatening to restrict his throat again, heart beginning to hammer.

"We will, Danno." Steve says, sighs, hasn't opened his eyes. It's enough to worry Danny. Using all of his energy, he pulls himself, using one leg whilst dragging the other injured one, towards Steve. Groans against the pain, clenches his teeth so hard he's sure they're going to snap, but doesn't stop until he's next to Steve, can reach out and feel a pulse. He doesn't know much about medicine, can only go by what the first aider had said at their last course, but knows it's weaker than it should be. Steve opens his eyes to look at his partner.

"I should take a look at your leg." Danny offers, because anything is a welcome distraction from their tomb, and he can't ignore the blood pooling on the ground.

"There's a knife in my left pocket. You'll need to cut the fabric." Steve nods, his voice weaker than Danny is used to; all the motivation he needs right now.

"Yeah babe, gonna need a map." He jokes, because he's seen _Trauma Centre_, knows that keeping a calm, rational tone helps to keep the victim placated, avoids any irrationality. Even if all Danny wants to do is run away, find a way out, never complain about the ocean again. He pats gently down the left leg, a sigh of relief when he finds the switch blade in the third pocket, tries not to flinch as the blade, as sharp as they come, flicks out. "Okay, this might hurt. Just a little." He warns, watches Steve's eyes close once again, his face tight, lips pursed.

"Just do it." He pushes past teeth. Danny shuffles, tries to get into a position to relieve the constant burning ache in his side, but is unsuccessful and decides that if he has to inflict pain on his partner, he may as well suffer with him. He pinches some of the tough fabric in between his thumb and finger, shoves the blade in hard and pulls, cutting through to skin. He knows already it's bad. Steve grunts, catches Danny's attention.

"Want me to stop?" He asks, hoping he'll get a nod yes, knowing he'll get a 'no'.

"Just stop dancing around it." Steve says, his nostrils flaring, eyes focusing on the blonde Detective. Danny takes the hint, moves the knife in quick, jagged motions, until he can strip the leg bare of fabric, exposing the injury. Danny drops the knife, heaves a little. Doesn't miss Steve's whimper of pain, the clenched fists as his side, eyes screwed tightly shut.

"It doesn't look good, Steve." Danny eventually manages whilst swallowing back saliva and bile. Steve's bloodshot eyes open, looks down at the bone protruding through flesh and skin.

"Compound fracture." Steve growls. "Uh, gonna need to sort that."

"What?" Danny asks, feels the blood drain from his face.

"If we don't, I'm gonna lose my leg." Steve swallows hard, wipes his hands against his shirt. "This way, I at least have a chance to save it."

"You're not going to lose your leg." Danny denies. "We'll be found any minute now, and a doctor can fix you up."

"Danny, I need you to do this." Steve urges, his voice quiet but the desperation loud. Danny looks down at the mess of an injury, feels sick again.

"I don't know." He bites his lip, looks back up at Steve. The line has to be drawn somewhere, he thinks, but where he isn't sure.

"All you have to do is tug on my foot."

"Your foot?"

"Yeah, and as you pull, I'll just push the bone back in."

"This is crazy." Danny shakes his head. "Even for you."

"I need to save my leg, Danno." Memories of fallen soldiers, old war wounds, haunt Steve's face. "It'll be over in seconds, I promise." He soothes, and Danny knows deep down that there is no choice here.

"This is mad." He mumbles, slowly starts to shuffle his way down to Steve's booted foot.

"You're going to have to take my boot off." He explains, winces as even the softest touch to his ankle sends a jolt of pain up his leg. "When I've pushed the bone back inside, you're gonna need to feel for a pulse on my foot."

"I can't believe this is happening." Danny shakes his head as he gently pulls the boot and sock free. "This is just a nightmare. I'm going to wake up any second now."

"Danny, I might pass out..."

"I'm going to wake up, and Grace is going to come and visit me, and we're going to go to the beach, because I suddenly have a new found appreciation for the openness of the ocean..."

"And if I do, and you don't feel a pulse, I'm going to need you to keep pulling, okay? Until you do, you got that?"

"Maybe I'll even take her to swim with the dolphins..."

"Danny!" Steve commands him back to reality.

"Right." Danny nods, his face paling. "Pull until there's a pulse."

"Okay. On the count of three, okay? One...Two..."

"Wait! Wait!" A hand flies up, halting Steve's countdown. "I don't know if I can."

"You can do this." Steve nods, voice falling to below a whisper. "I _need_ you to do this." A moment of silence before Danny contemplates that.

"Okay." He finally agrees, heaves a sigh. "But don't leave me, okay? Don't pass out. I need you too."

Steve laughs without humour.

"I'll try buddy." He moves his shaking hands to hover over his leg, millimetres away from the bone and Danny gently grabs hold of the foot, his own pain forgotten. "Ready? One. Two. Three."

Danny pulls. Steve pushes. Danny screams. Steve screams even louder.

It takes a few minutes for Danny to catch his breath and for the grey spots in his vision to dissipate. The relentless throbbing dulls to a persistent twinge as his breathing steadies. Steve has only been unconscious for less then ten minutes, and already Danny feels alone, dread and fear knotting in the pit of his stomach as the air becomes thicker, the oxygen thinning out. He's tiring quickly, daydreams of day trips with Grace, his Mom and Dad, casual days a New Jersey Detective and action packed ones as a FIVE-0 Detective. A clump of rock and dust falls onto Danny's head, brings him back to his bleak present.

"Gotta get out of here." He mumbles to himself, reaches over to pat down the remaining leg of Steve's cargo pants, feels relief when he pulls a cellphone from a pocket, lets it slip away as 'no service' flashes on the screen. But at least it's a light in the dusty darkness. He shines the phone around them, swallows hard against the panic as he acknowledges the small gap he's buried in, is ready to give in to anxiety when bright orange fabric catches his attention; Steve's pack.

He clenches his teeth together, tries not to cry out in pain as he drags himself towards the pack. The exertion wears him out; he's sweating and panting, and rests back against a pile of compact dirt and rock, brushes off the pack and rips open the first pocket.

"Oh God, thank you." He breathes, as he pulls a bottle of water out. He opens it, downs at least half, decides to stop so there's some for Steve when_, if, _he comes back around. He pulls more contents out, many of them useless – more pants, shirts, ration packs that Danny wouldn't consider eating even now, a first aid kit, a camping light. He flicks the light on, illuminating the tomb better than the cellphone, doesn't like how pale Steve looks. Tries to distract himself by moving on to the next pocket, almost cries with relief as he pulls a sat phone out, dials Chin's office number as quickly as his tired fingers will allow.

"Kelly." Chin answers swiftly, his voice tired.

"Chin? It's Danny. I'm with Steve and we're in a bit of trouble." Danny rushes to say, wipes sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

"What's happened?" Chin asks, Danny's tone pulling him to attention.

"Ground gave way on our hike. Need you to pinpoint our location, get search and rescue up here. Need medivac too."

"I'll get right on it. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, few broken ribs, maybe an ankle. Steve's not so good though; had a compound fracture that we've put a temp fix to, and has been unconscious for a few minutes now. Look man, we're pretty buried here, oxygen is getting thin, and it's a real small space..."

"Right, your claustrophobia." Chin answers. "Keep the satphone on, I'm tracing you now. I'll call for help and keep you updated."

"Thanks Chin." Danny says, before ending the call. He places the phone gently on the floor next to Steve's leg, careful not to somehow power it off, or break it, or anything that would hinder any rescue attempts, flicks on the camping light. He swallows hard when the extent of Steve's leg injury becomes more apparent. He reaches for the first aid kit, doesn't doubt that Steve would ever leave without something that Danny can use, feels inspiration hit when he pulls out a small bottle of iodine and packs of sterile gauze. It's not exactly perfect, but even Danny can make do with these. He scoots back over to Steve, tears open the first gauze packet with his teeth, twists open the lid of the small bottle and soaks the gauze so it's dripping. Wonders if he should pour some on the wound itself, shrugs as he does so because he figures it can only do good, and then, biting the inside of his cheek to stop him from vomiting, he forces the soaked gauze into the hole in Steve's thigh. Repeats the process again, ignores the thumping headache that's started to appear from nowhere, finally gives into the heaving and vomits on the floor, as far away from Steve as he can get. Tries to breathe through the blinding pain as his ribs shift again, leans back against the dirt, feels himself close to losing consciousness, is only pulled back to reality when Steve finally stirs.

"D'ny?" Steve mumbles, and Danny reaches over to make sure the belt pulled tight around Steve's thigh is still acting as a sufficient tourniquet, then grabs for a limp, clammy hand.

"Hey Sleeping Beauty." He forces a smile as Steve's eyes flicker open, hands him the half bottle of water, watches a Steve finishes it in three mouthfuls.

"How's m'leg?"

"I didn't pull it off." Danny answers sarcastically, laughs only at the relief of Steve's return to consciousness.

"Oxygen's low." Steve concludes, his eyes rolling as he fights to stay present. "How long was I out?"

"A while."

"S'rry."

"S'ok." Danny shrugs. Steve sits there, watches Danny's face twitch with every breath, knows he's in more pain than he's letting on.

"How you feelin'?"

"Been better." Danny answers honestly. "You?"

"Been better." Steve echoes, a smile playing at his lips.

"Chin's sending for help. I found your sat phone and managed to call out. If I ever moan about your incessant need to be prepared for every single possible outcome_ ever_, please slap me really, really friggin hard."

"I promise I will." Steve nods, his movement slow and robotic.

"How's the leg feeling?" Danny asks, the worry in his voice evident.

"Sore." Steve answers, rests his head back again. "But..."

"...Had worse, yeah I know." Danny finishes, rolls his eyes. "Want to talk, or just sit?"

"Just sit. Don't wanna use up too much oxygen." Eyes close.

"Yeah, you're probably right." Danny nods, winces as he shuffles to get comfortable, doesn't even notice that he can't feel his toes any more.

"Always am." Steve faintly smiles.

"Shuddup." Danny quips, checks the time on Steve's cell. "Wont be much longer." Closes his eyes as exhaustion and oxygen deprivation sets in.

* * *

Danny stopped measuring time shortly after his first call to Chin, when it no longer had any meaning. Instead, he and Steve had sat there, propped against the damp, muddy walls of their pit, neither opening their eyes or speaking to each other – the sound of each others breathing enough to affirm that the other is still there, still okay. They'd both fallen asleep – or lost consciousness – missed both calls Chin had tried to place, didn't even stir when, an hour later, they were dug out of Danny's own personal Hell, or when they were carried down back down the mountain on stretchers to the helicopter teamed with doctors, waiting to speed them off to Queens Medical centre.

Danny watches the heart monitor dip and rise with the steady rhythm of Steve's heart rate, doesn't miss the twitch of fingers in his peripheral vision.

"Steve?" He coaxes gently, his throat still dry and raw from inhaling too much dust.

"D'nny?" Steve mumbles, his voice hoarse.

"Yeh buddy, it's me." Danny grabs Steve's hand, looks hopeful as Kono and Chin rush to the other side of him, smiles when Steve's eyes flicker open slowly.

"What hap'ned?" He mumbles.

"Here you go boss." Kono grabs for the cup of water on the table, places the straw between parched lips. "Sip that."

"Your hiking trip didn't go to plan." Danny answers. "We ended up falling into an old lava tunnel. Chin got us out though."

"Oh." Steve nods around a mouthful of water, swallows hard as he pulls away from the straw.

"It's good to see you awake." Chin nods, pats Steve's shoulder gently, apologises when he winces. "Sorry."

"You've got a broken collarbone. Just a fracture, should heal in a few weeks." Danny explains.

"My leg...?" Steve moves to sit quickly, but Danny gently pins him by his other shoulder.

"It's okay. You've got a few pins in there, and you'll need to take a few months off to heal, but it's still attached. Thanks to my magnificent pulling skills." Winks to lighten the mood.

"Thanks Danno." Steve nods, the movement exhausting him. "How are you?"

"Three broken ribs, dislocated my ankle, but otherwise okay." He nods. "I was the lucky one."

"Make a change." Steve smiles.

"Wouldn't have been if you hadn't pulled me out of that panic attack though, Steve. So thanks."

"No, thank_ you_, Danno. You saved my leg, buddy." Steve says, sighs heavily as eyes close, ready to slip back into drug induced sleep. "And probably my life, man. You're my hero."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." Danny rolls his sore shoulders, a little uncomfortable at the remark, sure that anyone would have done the same for their friend, partner, brother. "Next time you wanna hang out, I vote for a football game and a few beers at my place, okay babe?"

"Sure." Steve whispers. "Next time."

Chin, Kono and Danny laugh quietly, the relief that their Ohana was going to be okay evident in their eyes, as Steve drifts back to sleep.


End file.
